


The Dragon's Ire (The Broken Crown)

by pallorsomnium



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dragons, Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Magic, Angry Erik, BAMF Charles, Denial of Feelings, Dragons, Druids, Erik has Feelings, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Erik is not a Happy Bunny, F/F, F/M, Families of Choice, M/M, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Shaw Being a Manipulative Bastard, Wyverns
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2017-12-21 09:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/898580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pallorsomnium/pseuds/pallorsomnium
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When the first dragon seen in over 20 years attacks Egis, Sir Erik of Albya is sent out to find the last surviving Dragon Lady, the only person who can save the city -- if she even survives. But his world turns upside down when he meets someone unexpected. Secrets from Erik's past come to light, and everything Erik knows about himself and his life, including his loyalty, changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I finally decided to start posting this fic! I've been working on it for the past month as part of Camp Nanowrimo, and on and off on it since last summer. It's only a quarter finished so far, but I've got it all outlined and I have it on priority thanks to my muse, so _maybe_ this fic will be completed by the end of the year! :D (Don't worry, for those waiting for my other WIPs, those are coming along too! I want to get some more words out before posting those.)
> 
> Anyway, this fic was partially inspired by Merlin season 2 episode 13, in which I took the barest bones for part of the story's backgrounds, and then suddenly the thing exploded into a full-blown novel-length fantasy AU. *falls over*
> 
> (Currently un-beta'd.)

The warning bells rang as Erik was preparing for sleep. With a grunt of irritation, he pulled his chainmail back on, and after a cursory check for everything he needed, he grabbed up his sword and hurried out the door.

He heard screaming outside a second before he ran out into the castle courtyard -- and was promptly forced to duck for cover as an actual _dragon_ swooped down from the sky and spat out a gust of fire. He had thought dragons extinct, all slaughtered during the Purge, but clearly, it seemed that wasn't the case.

As the dragon flew out of sight, Erik took the chance to stand up and take stock of the situation. Parts of the castle's stone walls were scorched black, but no one in sight was injured. Smoke rose up from the direction of the town, and he cursed under his breath. The town was on fire; men had to be sent to put out the flames before the entire town could be levelled.

"Sir Erik, behind you! Duck!" came a squawk that sounded very much like his squire Sean. He ducked, rolling to his right towards the castle columns for good measure, just in time to avoid another burst of dragon fire.

He looked up to see the backside of the dragon flying away, likely en route to turn back around and strike again.

"Sir!" his squire shouted, before Erik spotted him trotting across the courtyard, Erik's shield and Azazel in tow.

"Azazel, report," he barked as Sean handed him his shield.

"No casualties in the castle, but at least seven were killed in the town, and several injured. We do not have exact numbers," Azazel said.

"Where's Henry?"

"The physician has gone down to the town already. I’ve sent men with him to help with the fires."

Erik nodded in approval before ordering, "Send archers up to the garrets. The dragon's bound to come back."

Why the dragon would attacked now of all times wasn't of importance to him; protecting the castle was.

"Janos has already gathered up the archers. They'll be in position soon," Azazel said, and Erik pointedly ignored the line of worry that appeared on Azazel's brow.

"Good," he said instead. "Have the rest of the men gather here. The dragon's likely coming back. We'll face it head-on."

"Dragon!" came a shout for overhead, and he and Azazel dropped to the ground, shields up. He yanked Sean behind the makeshift barrier just in time as the dragon directed its flames first at the garrets and then right at them, the heat of the flames pressing down at their shields and bringing sweat to Erik's forehead.

"Sean, go with Azazel and help gather the men. Then find cover," he said once they could stand up again.

"But sir -- "

"That wasn't a request," Erik snapped. "Stay out of the fight and stay safe."

He glared until Sean nodded his consent. Azazel gave him a parting nod before leading Sean out of the courtyard. From where he stood, Erik could see the archers gathering on the garrets, the knights’ standard emerald green cloak distinguishing Janos from the others.

"Hold!" he heard Janos shout just as the dragon came into sight again.

Erik drew his sword and once again crouched down behind his shield, eyes trained on the growing bulk of the dragon.

"Fire!" Janos shouted, followed by a volley of arrows aimed at the dragon. But the arrows glanced off the beast's scales, and the archers had to press themselves against the castle stones as the dragon's fire targeted them.

The dragon then blew fire into the courtyard, and Erik braced himself for the force of the flames. He wasn't able to attack back, and he growled in frustration as the beast left again. It was going to be a long night.

  
The dragon ceased its attack at sunrise, but they didn't have time to rest. Everyone available helped put out the last of the fires and clear away the debris left by the dragon. Erik sent all the pages off to assist the court physician. There were too many people injured, too many dead. Those left without homes were allowed into the Great Hall, bedrolls and packs of salvaged belongings lining the walls.

"You see, Erik? Magic cannot be trusted to exist, especially not these creatures of magic," King Sebastian said to him when Erik got the chance to give him a report.

"Sire, you know I understand very well," Erik replied, keeping his face blank, even as familiar anger roiled in his gut. Nothing good came of magic, he knew that deep inside his bones; he didn't need the king to remind him. Besides, the dragon's carnage, the bodies in the courtyard covered with sooty sheets, was reminder enough.

"...ah yes, your poor mother. Of course." Sebastian nodded. "I trust your judgement, Erik. Use whatever of the castle's resources you think is needed to help us recover from the attack. Later in the day, I'll make my rounds. Let us hope we've seen the last of the dragon."

  
It wasn't the last they saw of the dragon.

Three nights passed, and every night come sundown the dragon would re-appear, raining fire down on the castle. Most of the town stood in ashes, and the Great Hall and two of the castle's smaller dining halls housed the entirety of the townspeople. Erik and the rest of the knights were running on little food and short naps. Henry and his motley group of assistants, Erik suspected, hadn't slept at all since the beginning of the attacks.

On the fifth day, King Sebastian finally called for an assembly in his throne room, rounding up the council, the knights, and the court physician. Queen Emma was in attendance as well, but like always, she sat silently in her throne, looking on with cold eyes.

"Something has to be done," the king said. "I will not allow Egis to live in terror every night from an overgrown lizard."

"Sire, arrows can’t penetrate the dragon’s scales," Erik said. "Lances and spears shatter, and we can’t get close enough to use our swords."

"Then _get_ close enough," the king snapped, and Erik clenched his jaw against a retort.

He was loyal to the king, he truly was. It was King Sebastian who raised Erik after his mother’s death, who brought him up as his own son when Erik, a mere peasant boy, could have easily been abandoned to the wilds. His loyalty didn’t make him blind though; he knew how unreasonable the king could be, his demands and expectations impossible at times.

"Y-your highness," the physician spoke up, and his shoulders hunched up when all in the room turned to their attention to him.

Erik had always found Henry lacking the confidence befitting his title as the court’s -- the _kingdom’s_ \-- best physician, but one could possibly blame it on his young age -- the man was barely twenty-one. At least, Henry spoke just fine when prompted to extol his knowledge.

"What is it, Henry?" the king asked, looking at the man with impatience.

"T-the dragon is a creature of old magic. I am sure you are aware from the Purge that it cannot be killed with a mortal blade," Henry explained.

The king scowled. "Then what do you suggest?"

Henry exhaled and straightened, pulling himself to his full height -- which was impressive, actually; the man _towered_ over Erik’s knights.

"We would need a Dragon Lady, sire," Henry said. "They are the only ones with the power to control them."

Erik had never heard of such people. He’d never heard the details behind how the king had managed to kill all the dragons, but the existence of _Dragon Ladies_ now gave him some idea.

"The Dragon Ladies were all executed during Purge," said the king.

"They were," Henry said simply, but the heavy judgement behind those two words were clear.

"Then that leaves us with nothing," Sebastian growled, prompting panicked muttering from the council and uneasy shifting among Erik’s knights.

"Not precisely."

The room fell silent, all eyes directed at the queen in shock. Erik, for one, hadn’t heard her speak in a week. The queen sat studying her nails, as if she hadn’t spoken at all.

"What do you mean, my dear?" the king asked when it seemed she wouldn’t say more.

She huffed and finally looked up, gazing at all the people assembled before replying, "If I recall correctly, one Dragon Lady slipped away."

"How can you possibly know that? I made sure I killed them all!"

The queen lifted a shoulder in an elegant shrug, but said no more, simply looking at the king as Sebastian frowned at her, clearly unwilling to cause a scene.

After a stretch of tense silence, Erik took his chances and stepped forward.

"Sire, if there is a chance that one still lives, we should try and find her. We cannot continue living this way much longer. Egis will weaken, and Albya will weaken. Our enemies will take advantage of that."

Sebastian gave the queen one last glare before turning to look at Erik.

"Very well. Erik, take however many men you need and go find this Dragon Lady and bring her back."

"We’ll leave at first light, sire," he replied with a bow.

  
Erik approached Henry the moment the king dismissed them all, not wanting to interrupt the physician later during his duties.

"I need you to tell me what you know about the Dragon Ladies and where I might find the surviving one."

Henry blinked at him for a moment, then looked at the people still around them. Nodding, the physician gestured towards the door. "We’ll speak in my quarters, if you don’t mind, sir."

With Erik’s acquiescence, Henry led the way through the castle to the physician’s quarters.

The outer room, where Henry treated his patients, was half-empty, the three cots that were usually in the room having been moved out to one of the dining halls; the outer room had been too small to fit the number of injured requiring treatment after the dragon’s attacks.

They sat down across each other at the only clear table in the room, Henry spreading out a map of the lands on the tabletop.

"The Dragon Ladies were the only people capable of controlling dragons. Legends say they’re actually related to the dragons. They weren’t sorceresses, but their powers were close enough to that of sorcery for King Sebastian to have them gathered up and executed," Henry said, frowning down at the map.

"But not before he got the dragons killed?" Erik questioned, voicing his suspicions.

Henry looked at him in surprise, but nodded slowly.

"My master told me the king tricked them into summoning all the dragons and ordered for them to be killed -- along with the Dragon Ladies."

Erik nodded, expecting as much. The deception made his stomach turn -- he’d always preferred straightforward battles; they were more honourable -- but what was honour to magic users? He thought of his village burnt to the ground, the earliest memory he had except for that of his mother, and pushed aside his distaste for the king’s methods.

"And how do I find the last one?" he asked.

"If one _survived_ ," Henry remarked with a scowl, before remembering himself and eyeing Erik warily. "The king did a very thorough job from what I heard. I don’t know how one could have possibly escaped, let alone how the _queen_ could possibly know."

"If there’s a chance, we have to take it," Erik repeated himself, though he wondered about the queen as well.

Around the time Erik was in his early teens, Emma had simply shown up one day in Sebastian’s company and then remained in Egis with them. Eventually, she and Sebastian had married, though Erik hadn’t seen any love between them _or_ any advantage in the union save for the elevation of Emma’s status. Regardless, the curiosity was that she hadn’t been around during the Dragon Ladies’ execution -- _Erik_ hadn’t even been around then.

"Where do you think the Dragon Lady would be if she’d survived?" he asked.

Henry gestured at the map.

"After the Purge, many of the druids settled here, the Forest of Sanctaidd by the Sarff Mountains," Henry pointed to the landmark northeast of Albya, "just within Tritror, and just out of reach of King Sebastian’s rule. It’s likely the Dragon Lady would have sought refuge with them."

"Which means I can’t bring too many men with me or King Thrandon would consider it an act of war if we’re seen," Erik mused aloud.

Henry gave him a look before saying, "You’ll be in druid lands. They’ve always been a peaceful group; you won’t need many men or weapons. In fact, they might be more receptive if you _didn’t_ start threatening them with blades."

"Magic users can’t be trusted," Erik snapped, and Henry flinched, keeping his head down and avoiding Erik’s eyes. When it seemed Henry had no more to say, Erik got to his feet and, with one last perusal of the map, headed for the door.

"Sir -- " Henry’s call stopped him by the door. "If the Dragon Lady _did_ survive, and if you manage to find her and convince her to help us, what will you -- what will the king do once the dragon is gone? The king killed all of her kin. Is that what will happen to her?"

Erik wouldn’t put it past the king to do so, and despite himself, the thought made his stomach lurch. It was one thing to raid a camp of magic users; it was another to actively seek one for help and then turn around and kill them. Then he pushed the uneasiness aside. He would address things as they arose; he first needed to see if a Dragon Lady had indeed survived.

He didn’t answer the physician. Before he left, he warned, "Be careful how you speak, Henry. The wrong person might think you were a magic sympathiser."

  
In the end, Erik chose to bring only one other knight with him. He would have taken Azazel, but if he could trust anyone to be left in charge of the castle’s defences, it would be Azazel. Janos wasn’t an option either; he was in charge of the archers.

After some deliberation, Erik chose Alex to come with him. Alex was young, having only received his knighthood a month ago, but while brash and impulsive, Erik had personally trained the boy and knew how to get him to follow orders. He was willing to trust Alex with the task ahead of them.

As Erik promised to the king, they set out at first light. It would take two days to reach the border, and in two days’ time, Erik would have to find a way to convince the Dragon Lady to come to their aid.


	2. Chapter 2

They didn’t run into any trouble during the first day of their journey to the border. They rode as long as they could, until there was barely enough light to see by, and then set up camp.

"You think we’ll find her?" Alex asked him as they ate.

"We would have to find the druids first," Erik replied with a scowl.

"It can’t be that difficult, can it? Henry thinks they have a large settlement, and they’re supposed to be a peaceful lot."

"They might take off the moment they hear us coming though."

Alex hadn’t even been born when the Purge began, but as a teen during the later years, Erik had been sent out several times to find reported druid encampments only to find smoldering campfires and bits of forgotten fabric. He wouldn’t be surprised if the experience was repeated.

Alex groaned. "So this could take days, even weeks? We don’t have that kind of time!"

"I know that even better than you do," Erik growled. "But it’s the only chance we’ve got."

"Even if we find them, how will we get them to help us? We haven’t exactly been friends with their kind."

"Then we’ll get down on our knees and beg if we have to," he snapped out of frustration. A day of riding, and he still hadn’t come up with an answer to that problem. Alex raised an eyebrow in skepticism; no doubt because no one had ever seen Erik beg for anything--because Erik _didn’t_ beg. Erik scowled again. "Get some sleep. We move when the sun rises."

  
  


Their second day of travel was again uneventful, and they crossed the border into Tritror late in the day. The Sarff Mountains loomed in the distance when they set up camp for the night.

As predicted, they reached the Forest of Sanctaidd on their third day. They were forced to tether their horses by a nearby stream, the path into the forest too narrow for the beasts to travel through. Chills ran down Erik’s back the moment they stepped into the forest, as if they’d just passed through some unseen barrier. Somewhere deep among the trees were the druids, and he and Alex were heading straight into their nest, outnumbered and barely armed.While they weren’t aiming to attack the druids, Erik couldn’t trust their confrontation to be peaceful.

The forest was calm as they began their trek through the trees. Erik listened carefully for any unnatural sounds, but all he could hear were the movement and sounds of wildlife. Henry had offered no ideas for where the druids were encamped, so Erik and Alex were forced to simply stumble their way through, hoping for some signs of human presence -- something that rankled Erik’s instincts.

They had been walking for little under an hour before anything happened. The only warning sign they received was a snapping of a twig before they were surrounded on all sides by a small band of archers and hooded sorcerers.

"Peaceful, my arse," Alex grumbled, eyeing the arrows pointed at them.

Erik thought the two of them _might_ have stood a chance if they tried to fight back, but magic users were unpredictable and convincing them to help Egis would be infinitely harder if he and Alex attacked any of them.

One of the druids stepped forward and said to them, "Come with us, Sir Knights of Albya."

  
  


The druids let them keep their swords -- which said something, though Erik leaned more towards the druids’ self-confidence than their trust. The druids didn’t speak any further, simply gesturing to them and leading them off the path and deeper into the forest.

They were taken to the largest druid encampment Erik had ever seen, right at the base of the mountains, where the ground had only just begun to slope upwards. It was an entire village made of large tents in the colours of the earth, with additional yards of fabric spanning multiple tree trunks and hanging down from branches. Cooking fires warmed the air, as did the murmurs and calls in English and the Old Tongue. The druids they passed fell silent, tracking their progress through the encampment with heavy gazes.

Their escorts took them to the center of the camp, where a tent larger than the others stood. A woman wrapped up in a deep blue cloak -- different from the deep green or brown of most of the druids -- sat before the entrance, watching their approach without seeming to blink. By her side stood a woman dressed in not just coarse fabric, but leather and chainmail, with a knife on her belt and a bow slung over her shoulder. But most notably, blue markings covered her face, turning her expression from fierce to menacing. She glared at Erik especially, as if his very existence somehow wronged her.

"Welcome, Knights of Albya. Please, have a seat," said the woman wrapped in blue, gesturing before her. She hadn’t moved her gaze, looking straight ahead, and up close, Erik saw her eyes were glazed a milky white -- she was blind.

Alex looked over at Erik, waiting for his decision, and Erik nodded. He and Alex did as instructed, sinking to the ground, through Erik eyed the blue-painted woman warily.

"Raven, you as well. You do not need to hover," the blind woman said, and the woman in leather huffed but did as she was told, sitting down cross-legged.

"You knew we were coming," Erik said.

The blind woman inclined her head. "Yes, we did. My name is Irene, but I am called _Gweledydd_ , the Seer. I saw your coming one moon cycle ago."

"Then you know whom we seek."

Irene didn’t speak for a long stretch of time, causing Erik to frown and Alex to shift nervously beside him.

"It is best you know that the last Dragon Lady died twenty-one years ago," she finally said.

"No thanks to your king," growled the woman in leather, but Erik didn’t pay her any heed, already cursing over their lost chance.

"If that is so, then we’d best be on our way back," he said, shifting to rise to his feet.

"Her son, however, is the Dragonlord," Irene said, freezing Erik in place.

"I thought there were no such things as Dragon _lords_ , only Dragon _Ladies_."

The seer smiled and nodded.

"Magic makes use of whatever it can. The _draig_ kinship must be continued, and _Wraig_ Sharon had a son but no daughter, so the son becomes the Lord."

Erik kept his lips from curling; she spoke as if magic was _alive_.

"Then how can I speak to this Dragonlord?"

" _Arglwydd_ is up in the mountains for the day. He’ll be back before sunset," she said. "You may stay for the night, whether he agrees to assist you or not."

Erik and Alex had no choice but to accept, though the hostile one, Raven, looked as displeased by the notion as Erik felt.  

  
  


The seer gave them a tent to spend the night, and two druids were sent to retrieve their horses. The tent was large and comfortable enough, the ground covered with layers of fabric and cushions littering the interior, but Erik doubted he’d get any sleep; he didn’t trust the druids as far as he could throw them, even with their hospitality.

Barely any time passed since he and Alex sat down in their tent before someone scratched at the tent’s flap.

"Yes?" Erik barked, rolling up onto his feet.

A dark-skinned man, perhaps a few years older than Alex, stepped in. Unlike the druids with their long earth-coloured cloaks, the man dressed much like Raven did -- leather and chainmail, a sheathed sword on his belt. And the way he carried himself---

"You’re a knight!" Alex exclaimed, making Erik internally wince at his brazenness.

The man smiled and replied, "Knight-errant, more specifically. I’m Armando, originally from King Thrandon’s court. Irene thought you two might like some questions answered, but would rather hear them from someone who didn’t do magic."

"You’re still a magic sympathiser," Erik said, scowling. He had no respect for anyone who would give up their knighthood for druids.

Armando blinked at him as if actually surprised by Erik’s statement. He then asked, "You’re Sir Erik, as in King Sebastian’s man?" Erik narrowed his eyes at him and nodded. "Ah, well, that explains it. I hope you aren’t here to cause trouble, or trick Charles into following you into a trap." Armando’s face darkened, any trace of friendliness gone. "Make no mistake. We know you hate magic, and if you hurt Charles, or get him killed with what you’re asking him help with, you’ll have me and all the druids -- and likely magic itself -- to answer to."

Erik clenched his jaw for a second before replying, "Understood." The implication that he’d act dishonourably rankled, but with the animosity between Albya and magic users, and all the sorcerers Albya had executed, he would have been surprised if he hadn’t been threatened. It was King Sebastian’s deception, after all, that had gotten all the Dragon Ladies killed.

"Good." Armando nodded, and all the sternness disappeared from his face, replaced with a smile. "So, do you have any questions?"

Alex glanced at Erik before asking, "The Dragonlord’s name is Charles? The seer called him something else."

"She probably called him _Arglwydd_ , then. It’s his title in the old language, but his name is Charles. You could call him Lord, but he doesn’t like it."

"Huh. So what’s he like? What’s the difference between a Dragonlord and a sorcerer? Is there one?"

Erik scoffed inwardly; of course there wasn’t a difference.

"Well, from what I understand, Charles does use magic and can do basic spells, but his magic is different from a normal sorcerer’s. He’s magically related to dragons, so his magic is like the kind dragons use--or well, _had_ used."

Erik noted, based on Armando’s words, that he wasn’t aware of why Erik and Alex were there; it seemed the seer had not told anyone that a dragon was alive and attacking Egis, only that he and Alex would be coming to their encampment. He wasn’t sure what that meant about her intentions, but he didn’t speak to correct Armando. And for all Alex’s _friendliness_ with the knight-errant, it looked liked he was smart enough to not say anything about it as well.

Erik sighed and sat back down, settling in for a long wait for the Dragonlord’s arrival.

  
  


Armando spent the next few hours in their company, and he and Alex seemed to be fast becoming friends, much to Erik’s displeasure.

The sun was beginning to set when someone scratched on the flap of their tent.

"That’s probably Charles," Armando said, nodding to the flap.

"Come in," Erik called, getting to his feet.

A man around Erik’s age walked in, dressed in heavy leathers and coarse fabrics. Curiously, he wore a vest made of a strange reptilian-like hide. But what caught Erik’s attention was the impossibly bright blueness of the man’s eyes, like the faraway sea he’d seen only once many years ago.

“Welcome back, Charles,” Armando said with a wave, not getting up from where he sat by Alex.

“Hello, Armando,” the man greeted before turning his blue eyes to Erik. “Are you Sir Erik, from Albya?”

Erik nodded.

“Charles, of the Dragonkin. I was told you wished to speak with me?” the man asked, studying Erik as if he could determine why they were here just by looking at him.

“Yes, Alex and I--” Erik paused to gesture to Alex. “--came from Egis. Has your seer told you what we need of you?”

Charles shook his head. "Only that two knights would be looking for me, asking for my help."

“For the past week, a dragon has been attacking the castle. The town is already completely destroyed.”

“A _dragon_? An actual living dragon?” Charles asked, eyes lighting up.

Erik scowled at his excitement. “Yes, and we’ve already had people die from the attacks, and more will if something isn’t done.” That caused Charles to sober at least, and Erik certain did not regret the way his blue eyes dimmed. “Our weapons are useless against it.”

“And you came here to ask me to call off the dragon,” Charles concluded. “How did you know I--a Dragonlord--existed? And how did you know where to find me?”

“We didn’t know of a Dragonlord. The queen said a Dragon Lady had survived, and our court physician knew there was a druid encampment somewhere in these forests.”

Charles frowned, looking from Erik to Alex, exchanging a glance with Armando, and looking back at Erik. "Normally, I would agree at once. I shudder at the thought of leaving innocents under the mercy of a full-grown dragon," Charles said. "However, I am sure you understand my caution. Your king has been no friend to magic, and he was ultimately responsible for my mother’s death."

“Is there anything you’d ask for in return? Within limits, of course,” Erik said.

“I will have to think about it. Rest for tonight. I’ll visit you tomorrow morning to give my answer.”

With that, Charles bid Erik and Alex good night before leaving, Armando soon following him. A druid came by, leaving them with two bowls of stew for dinner, and then they were left undisturbed for the night.

Erik spent the night ignoring Alex and brooding, thinking of how likely the Dragonlord would agree to help them -- and pointedly _not_ thinking of the man’s blue, blue eyes.


	3. Chapter 3

In the morning, Erik ventured out of their borrowed tent. The encampment was coming to life with the dawning of the sun, druids bustling about with the duties of the morning. They eyed him warily as he walked past them, but didn’t approach him, and Erik headed towards the large fire burning before the central tent.

Like the day before, the seer sat on the ground just outside the large tent, though this time with a bowl of food in one hand. As if sensing his approach, she looked up and turned her head in his direction, though her eyes didn’t focus on him.

“Good morning, Sir Erik,” she greeted. “Would you like some breakfast?” She gestured to the cast-iron pot hanging above the fire and a collection of bowls stacked on a large, smooth rock.

“Morning,” he grunted. Unable to turn down the hospitality, he ladled some stew out into a bowl for himself. Taking a look around, he cautiously sat down by the fire to eat.

“Did you meet with _Arglwydd_ yesterday?” the seer asked.

“Yes. He’ll give me an answer this morning,” Erik replied, then tensed as he saw the woman called Raven approach with a scowl on her face.

“Now you listen here, knight,” she hissed, ignoring the seer when she called her name. “Charles is my brother in every way that matters. If you or that despicable king of yours harm a single hair on his head, you’re going to wish you never set foot in these forests once I get ahold of you. Understood?”

“Raven, _Arglwydd_ hasn’t given his answer yet,” Irene interrupted before Erik could respond with more than a wordless snarl.

Raven’s fierceness seemed to almost deflate, though still leaving obvious hostility and distrust towards Erik.

“All right, but the threat still stands, you hear?” she growled at Erik.

Without waiting for a response, she spun around, heading for the pot of stew and bowls.

“Don’t mind Raven too much, Sir Erik,” the seer told him. “Raven grew up under the guidance of _Arglwydd_. They don’t have family themselves and see each other as siblings, so they are naturally very protective of each other.”

Erik didn’t say a word, watching as Raven served herself a bowl of stew and then sat down right next to Irene.

He didn’t have siblings as far as he could remember, and Sebastian and Emma had never had children. Erik had grown up alone before starting as a page, during which time he’d met Azazel and Janos. He assumed the trust and fierce concern he held for Azazel and Janos was the closest to brotherhood he’d ever get, and he supposed that must be like what Raven felt for the Dragonlord.

Of course, that kind of empathy wouldn’t help him at all in gaining the Dragonlord’s help, so he pushed the thoughts aside. Besides, magic users killed his family, so he shouldn’t have any sympathies for _their_ lost families.

 

A voice called Erik’s name as he walked back towards his and Alex’s tent. He turned to see Charles standing in the entrance of a tent. It seemed as if he’d woken up just a few minutes before; his hair was mussed, and he wore a loose tunic rather than the thick layers from yesterday.

“Good morning. Would you like to come sit and speak with me?” Charles asked him, smiling slightly.

“Have you decided then?” Erik asked in turn.

Charles nodded and turned slightly, tilting his head towards the inside of his tent. “Feel free to come in, please.”

He disappeared into his tent without waiting for Erik’s agreement. Erik frowned, but followed the man inside, reasoning to himself that the Dragonlord couldn’t possibly be thinking to harm him in any way.

The tent’s interior wasn’t sparse like the one Erik and Alex shared. Of course, Charles had likely lived in his for nearly his whole life. Thick carpets and plump cushions covered the ground, a row of chests lined the back of the tent, and a sleeping palette was tucked into a corner. Most notably though, countless books and scrolls were strewn every which way, stacked atop the chests or simply on the carpets. The Dragonlord, it seemed, was a bit of a scholar.

“Apologies for the mess. I spend most of my time up in the mountains these days,” Charles said, shifting things around so that there was space on the floor for the two of them to sit on cushions. “I hope you rested well last night?” he asked once they’d settled down.

“Fine. What have you decided?” Erik tried not to scowl -- more than usual anyway -- as he cut short the small talk.

The friendly smile that had graced Charles’ face disappeared as he sighed, looking very put-out. Erik squashed the tiny hint of guilt at the sight.

“I will help you call off the dragon, on certain conditions; I believe they are fairly reasonable,” Charles said.

“What is it you want, then?” Erik eyed him warily.

"First of all, can you swear on your honour that you will do everything in your power to keep me alive and well, including once the job is done?"

Erik hesitated, wondering at the cost of keeping such an oath. He took his oaths seriously, and he didn’t know what the king would choose to do after the dragon was taken care of. Erik would be protecting a magic user, which went against his personal beliefs, not to mention Albya’s laws. But the people of Egis were in danger, and Erik would protect them at all cost.

Charles looked him steadily in the eye, not speaking further. Despite the lightness of his eyes, his gaze felt so heavy on Erik’s shoulders, full of expectation and -- surely Erik was mistaken, he had to be -- _trust_. And there really wasn’t another answer he could give, not with those eyes looking at him, and not with the lives of Egis’ people counting on him.

Erik unhooked his sword from his belt, and slowly, as not to startle the man, got up onto one knee and held out his sheathed sword with two hands, parallel to the ground and palms facing up.

With all the seriousness the action called for, Erik said, “I swear on my sword and my honour that I will do everything in my power to keep you alive and well and to ensure you return safely to this encampment.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Charles nodded, visibly relaxing. “Thank you.”

Erik returned his sword to his belt and sat back down. “What are your other conditions?”

“Only one other condition,” Charles said, and then paused, as if considering what to say. “I know you are not fond of magic, but for the time that I’ll be in your company, I ask for you to keep an open mind, rather than simply antagonising magic on instinct.”

Erik narrowed his eyes at him. “Why?”

Charles sighed, suddenly looking weary and older than his years. “Because I dislike hatred and ignorance. Because magic can be beautiful and isn’t something to be feared. Because I believe you are a good man, Sir Erik, and I wish for you to see that not all magic -- not all magic _users_ are evil.”

Again, he looked at Erik with such weight, such unbelieveable trust. Despite the man’s words, Erik still didn’t see why Charles would care for Erik’s view on magic, not when Erik has already sworn an oath on his wellbeing, and Erik’s view on magic couldn’t possibly be changed.

But Charles was asking Erik to treat magic as non-hostile while in his company, in exchange for stopping the dragon’s attacks. _Magic_ was going to save Egis and countless lives, so he supposed, if the man who would be doing the saving asked for Erik to curb his instincts, then he really had nothing to lose.

Erik nodded. “Very well then. I agree to keep an open mind on magic while in your company.” 

“Thank you, Sir Erik.”

He had to then blink, stunned as Charles’ solemnity melted away and was replaced with the sheer brilliance of Charles’ smile. He honestly couldn’t understand the man at all.

After agreeing to leave for Egis in an hour’s time, Erik quickly excused himself to get Alex and himself ready and packed for the trip. Since he didn’t know how to act around the strange Dragonlord, he thought it safer to retreat--at least for now.

 

It didn’t take long for Erik and Alex to get their things packed and ready to go. They’d just stepped out of their tent when Armando approached them. He nodded a greeting to Alex before looking Erik in the eye with a firm set to his jaw.

“I’m going with you,” Armando said. “I’m not letting Charles go to Egis alone.”

Erik bristled at the implication. “I swore an oath.”

“Yes, I know. But that still doesn’t mean I trust you. I owe him my life, so I’m going to make sure he stays safe.”

Erik wanted to protest -- vehemently, at that -- but he hadn’t spent the last eight years of his life training knights and knights-to-be for nothing; he knew stubbornness when he saw it. So instead he scowled and conceded. “Fine. You can come, but only as the Dragonlord’s protection. And on the way to Egis, you will follow my orders just like any other knight under my command, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” Armando replied.

Erik narrowed his eyes at him, not completely sure if he was being mocked or not. Eventually he huffed and said, “Then get packing. We leave in less than an hour.”

 

Curiously enough, when it came time for them to finally depart from the encampment and they stood by their horses waiting for Charles, the man appeared coming not from the direction of his tent, but from the direction of the mountains.

“Apologies for the wait,” Charles said once within earshot.

He carried a small pack over to his horse, and after a warm greeting to the mare, added the bag to her load.

“We’re set to leave if you’re ready,” Erik said, just narrowly avoiding a hint of sarcasm.

“Of course. I’m ready to--” Charles was interrupted when a body collided into his. Erik tensed before seeing that it was the woman Raven, who was hugging the life out of the Dragonlord. She whispered something into Charles’ ear, to which he smiled, nodded, and patted her back a few times.

After she pulled away, she went to Armando and clasped forearms with him the way many knights usually did. Soon Raven stepped away, joining the rest of the druids gathered to give Charles and Armando a send-off.

After much hand-waving and shouted farewells in the Old Tongue, the four of them are finally underway, with Erik in the lead. He huffed under his breath when Alex and Armando brought their horses side by side and began talking away about who knew what. Fortunately, Charles seemed content to ride in silence, looking at his surroundings calmly and not bothering Erik.

Erik had been unsure if Charles would be an experienced rider, having gotten the impression that Charles had always lived in the Forest of Sanctaidd. However, it seemed the man was a natural at handling a horse, and Erik wondered briefly if Charles’ affinity with dragons carried over to an understanding of animals. Regardless, Erik was simply glad they would only take about three days to reach Egis.

 

The silence between him and Charles didn’t last, to Erik’s great disappointment -- nevermind the inexplicable, gnawing desire he felt to talk to the Dragonlord that he firmly ignore.

“If I may ask, where are you from, Erik? Egis hasn’t been around for long, after all,” Charles said when they stopped for a quick lunch.

Erik tensed, and from the corner of his eye, he caught Alex wincing -- for good reason. All of Erik’s knights knew that asking questions about Erik’s distant past meant either volunteering to carry the target during training or mucking up the stables, oftentimes both.

He debated the merits of telling Charles to mind his own business, or answering to keep him from asking more questions. The latter won out, so he said, “Eularnor.”

Charles blinked, brow furrowing in thought. “That sounds familiar.”

“It shouldn’t be. It’s gone.”

“What--oh. Oh, I’m so sorry.” The confusion on Charles’ face crumpled into sympathy, which rankled Erik to no end.

“Don’t,” Erik growled, and Charles gave him a frown, but didn’t say anything more, to Erik’s relief.

 

The tension from the short not-conversation continued on after lunch. Alex and Armando looked between Erik and Charles with wariness, while Charles kept sending him sad, regretful looks with his big, blue eyes.

Erik tried--and failed--to not feel guilty. Charles had asked him to withhold his animosity towards magic, surely as a way to prevent hostilities between them, and Erik had promised to do so. And yet he’d been nothing but hostile, though really, Erik snapped at anyone who asked about his childhood. However, guilt or no guilt, Erik wasn’t about to _apologise_ for his behavior.

 

It wasn’t until they stopped for the night and gathered around a fire for the evening meal that either of them spoke. The silence, it seemed, had been too great for the Dragonlord.

“I’m sorry,” Charles blurted out. “For asking, I mean. I really shouldn’t have asked. I know I have a habit of asking too many questions, which I'm sure Armando can agree with. I--"

"Charles," Erik interrupted before the man could continue his nervous rambling. "It's....fine."

"Oh, all right," Charles said sheepishly.

The food the druids had packed for them -- or rather for Charles and Armando, and for Erik and Alex only in extension for courtesy -- was warmed up over the fire and divided among the four of them.

Then, Alex suddenly asked Charles, “So, do you think you can show us some magic?”

“Alex,” Erik growled.

“Hey, I want to know! I mean, the only magic we’ve seen were dangerous stuff, but not all magic is bad, right? Armando said Charles saved his life with magic, so I would think _some_ of it has to be good...right?”

Charles practically beamed at Alex, which irritated Erik to no end.

“Magic is dangerous and can only bring misfortune,” he snapped.

The smile promptly disappeared, and Charles sighed and looked at him with-- _disappointment_ in his eyes. Erik told himself he shouldn’t be feeling the instinct to flinch.

“Erik. You promised me,” Charles said, causing Erik to stiffen.

Because he had, and so he huffed and said, “Fine. Say what you will.”

“Thank you, Erik.” Charles turned back to where Alex and Armando sat watching the two of them warily. “Now, magic isn’t something you can choose to exist or not. Magic is all around us; it’s deep in the earth and seeped into the very air we breathe. Every living thing, even the trees, has magic; it’s what gives us life as we know it."

Erik kept himself from commenting--not too difficult in the sight of Charles’ enthusiasm.

“I’m not very good at the fancy little tricks a sorcerer can do, unfortunately, but hmm...” Charles trailed off, looking around for something. “Ah, I know just the thing.”

Much to Erik’s alarm, Charles pulled a knife out from where it was hidden in the leg of his boot.

“Considering the dragon’s reputation, most people don’t know that dragons have healing magic. Since I am dragon kin, I have that power too.”

When Charles pressed the knife’s blade to the palm of his other hand, Erik lunged forward and yanked back the hand holding the knife.

“ _What_ do you think you’re doing?” Erik growled.

Charles blinked at him. Then he frowned and said, “I was only going to make a small cut. I can heal it, after all. It’ll be like it never happened.”

“No.” Erik glowered at him, trying to impress his disapproval upon him.

“Really, Erik.”

“No.” He kept hold of Charles’ wrist, trying to ignore the soft warmth of the skin under his fingers.

“Erik--”

“ _No_ ,” Erik said again. “If you insist on showing Alex your healing magic, then here.” Erik held out his free hand.

“I-- _what_?” Charles gaped at him for a few moments, but when Erik didn’t speak, he said, “You want me to -- to you? But you hardly trust me!”

“You said you could heal it,” Erik stated.

“Yes, but _Erik_ ,” Charles tried to protest.

“Didn’t you want to prove magic wasn’t all bad?”

Charles’ protests died out, much to Erik’s relief, because Erik didn’t really know why he was willing to let Charles hold a knife to his hand, and really didn’t want to think too much about it.

“If you’re sure...”

Erik nodded and finally let go of Charles’ wrist. Charles looked at him warily before holding the knife to Erik’s proffered palm.

Erik barely felt the sting as Charles gave him a shallow cut with the knife. Charles quickly wiped the knife clean with the edge of his cloak before tucking the knife back into his bootleg. He cradled Erik’s hand in his own two, bracketing the cut he’d left.

Then he started murmuring in an almost singsong voice, smooth and lilting, and Erik tried not to jump when Charles’ hands started glowing faintly.

The cut on Erik’s palm slowly closed, and Erik could feel the faint pulling sensation as the cut sealed itself and faded. Soon, there wasn’t a trace, the skin of his palm as callous-rough but unbroken as before.

Erik stared. He had known, of course, that some sorcerers were capable of healing cuts and making illnesses instantly better, but it was another thing to actually see the healing happen. He wondered how many more lives Henry could have saved from the dragon’s nightly attacks--or in general--with such magic.

And then Erik had to restrain himself, because that line of thought just _couldn’t_ be pursued.

“Wow, that’s _amazing_!” Alex exclaimed, startling Erik from his thoughts and causing both Erik and Charles to look in his direction.

Charles smiled at him sheepishly, before replying, “Thank you. There are limits, of course. Magic isn’t a cure-all; magic is about _balance_. If someone is on the verge of death, magic cannot bring them back to health without great, often unimaginable, cost. But...” He paused, looking back at Erik with soft, bright eyes. “--as you can see, magic can still do incredible things that are for people’s good.”

Erik was caught in the blues of Charles’ eyes, trapped in the sincerity and hope that shown from their depths.

Then Alex or Armando cleared his throat, startling him and Charles, who seemed to realise he was still holding Erik’s hand and let go.

“I’m...going to get some sleep. Who do you want to take first watch, sir?” Armando asked.

Erik kept himself from looking back at Charles, instead giving Armando and Alex his attention.

“I’ll take the first watch. Armando, you take the second, and Alex can take the last.”

Erik didn’t fully trust Armando, but he could trust that Armando wanted to keep himself and Charles safe, so the knight-errant would at least keep an attentive watch.

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, which Armando echoed a second later. The two of them left the fire to prepare their bedrolls, leaving Erik alone with Charles.

“Why am I not assigned a watch?” Charles asked, and Erik raised an eyebrow.

“You’re not a knight.”

Charles huffed. “I am perfectly capable of keeping watch over a campsite.”

Erik returned his frown. “You weren’t trained especially in combat.”

“That doesn’t mean I don’t know how to fight.”

Erik breathed in deeply, trying to keep his temper from rising out of his frustration. He tried to find the best words to keep Charles from arguing.

“I’m not implying you are weak. I would feel _better_ ,” Erik began slowly, “if a knight, someone who has spent years honing their instincts for danger, was standing watch. I swore to keep you safe, and having you stand watch would be counterproductive.”

Charles continued frowning at him for a while, and Erik stared resolutely back at him, until Charles finally sighed and gave in.

“Very well, I suppose you’re right. Then I will just head to bed myself now.”

Erik simply nodded, though some of the tension he felt in his shoulders disappeared, and then headed for the edge of their campsite, hunkering down atop a tree stump with his sheathed sword in hand.

He kept his eyes to their surroundings, but watched out of the corner of his eye as Charles spread out a bedroll and crawled under a blanket.

“Night’s blessings, Erik,” Charles’ voice carried through the night, catching Erik by surprise.

Erik hesitated for a moment, before saying in return, “Good night, Charles.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think some of you might have noticed I've been updated every two weeks. That might change into every three weeks because school's about to start up, but we'll see how far I get! Hope you enjoyed this chapter~


	4. Chapter 4

After that night, they settled into a silent truce. Charles spoke with Erik carefully and didn’t push him for personal details, and Erik didn’t snap at Charles for speaking about magic. Erik would simply sit and listen without comment, though often with a grain of salt, as Alex asked Charles to explain one aspect or another about magic.

Charles loved magic, loved _life_ with an enthusiasm Erik had never encountered before. His eyes, already so bright, lit up even brighter when he spoke of anything magical. Charles enjoyed teaching others and the wonders he saw in magic and living things, be they human, plant, or animal.

And Erik was finding that, if not for the magic aspect, that he would have enjoyed Charles’ company -- or perhaps _in spite_ of that aspect. And Erik would never admit, even to himself, that his view toward magic was changing -- softening, just the slightest -- because of Charles.

The two remaining days of travel passed amicably enough, though Erik couldn’t ignore the undercurrent of urgency he felt to return to Egis. It had been nearly a week since he and Alex had left Egis. Erik doubted the town has survived, but he hoped the castle stronghold was at least standing strong.

 

They reached Egis just before sunset, and all four of them paused as the castle came into sight.

“Oh goodness,” Charles remarked with a frown.

As Erik had expected, the town outside the castle walls stood in ruins, only a pile of charred wood and scattered ashes. Fortunately, the castle still looked alright, though Erik could see faint scorch marks at the tops of some sections of the walls.

“It’s almost sundown,” he remarked. “The dragon will probably attack within the hour or two.”

“Then we best hurry,” Charles replied. “Did your king wish to see me beforehand?”

Erik paused before nodding, suddenly feeling a bit anxious at the thought of presenting Charles to Sebastian -- the man who killed Charles’ _family_. “He will need to know that you’re here and that you agreed to help us.”

Charles nodded. “Very well then. Lead the way, if you please.”

 

When they reached the castle gates, the guards recognized Erik immediately and rushed to open the gates. As they entered, Erik took note of any changes since he’d left. There were a lot more people milling about in the courtyards, likely because they had moved the entire town within the castle walls. Most of them were hurrying back into the actual castle, seeking shelter as night fell. The courtyards were bare; Erik had ordered them cleared after too many fires set to carts and barrels during the dragon’s first attacks. Scorch marks covered the stones they walked across to get to the castle’s main doors; he frowned at the sight.

Azazel and Janos stood waiting for them when they reached the open doors, looking haggard and relieved to see Erik and Alex -- and casting curious looks at Charles and Armando.

“Erik, Alex, welcome back,” Azazel said as he and Janos clasped arms with Erik and Alex.

“We’ll talk as we walk. How goes things?” Erik asked as he led them all down the hallway.

Azazel replied, “Not good. The town is completely gone. I do not have the count of the dead; you will have to ask Henry. We have moved everyone into the castle, but we will run out of resources in two weeks if nothing is done.” He took another glance at Charles and Armando. “Did you not find her?”

“This is her son, Charles, and his...guard, Armando,” Erik said. “Charles is a Dragonlord.” He paused to address Charles and Armando. “Azazel is my second in command, and Janos is head of our archers.”

“Pleased to meet you, though perhaps not the best circumstances,” Charles replied. “The audience won’t be long, will it? It would be easier to call the dragon to me before he--or she--starts attacking.”

“It shouldn’t take long,” Erik said. “The king only needs an introduction, since we’re already running low on time.”

 

The throne room’s doors were thrown open, word of their arrival already having reached the king. The queen was also in attendance, seated elegantly as always in her throne beside the king. At their entrance, Sebastian leaned forward in his throne, giving Erik a smile.

“Ah, Erik, you’ve returned,” the king greeted as Erik and the others bowed to him. Then Sebastian frowned, looking at the people with Erik. “You didn’t find the Dragon Lady?”

“No, sire,” Erik replied. “Unfortunately, the Dragon Lady passed away. Her son is with me though; he is the remaining Dragonlord.”

Erik gestured for Charles to step forward.

“Your majesty, my lady,” Charles bowed again. Erik noticed the sudden pause and brief frown Charles made when he looked at Queen Emma. “I am Charles, of the Dragon Kin, at your service.”

Erik didn’t know how to feel about the fact that he’d been around Charles long enough to detect a dry irony in his tone.

The king looked at Charles with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes, while Emma was staring at Charles as if in fascination. Erik frowned and hoped that Charles wouldn’t end up in trouble with the king or queen.

“Welcome, then, Dragonlord Charles. I hope it won’t take too long to get rid of this dragon for us?” Sebastian questioned.

Charles nodded. “Of course, sire. I was told the dragon comes after sunset. If you do not mind, it would be best if I got out to the plains right away.”

Shaw waved his hand at them in a shooing motion. “Of course, of course. Hurry along then.”

 

They stood in a vast clearing outside of Egis, far enough not to put the castle directly in danger but close enough that the castle could be seen. Night had fallen, but the dragon hadn’t yet begun its attack. The moon shone brightly above them, and under its light and that of their torches, Erik and a group of curious knights waited to see what Charles planned to do when the dragon wasn’t even in sight yet.

Charles walked away from all of them, even Armando, making his way closer towards the center of the grass field stretched before them. He looked up at the stars, his profile sharp under the light, and sucked in a deep breath.

Then, Erik barely kept himself from gaping like the rest of his knights as Charles called up to the sky. Charles’ eyes glowed silver with power, and the sounds coming out of his mouth were nothing he’d ever heard from any human being, more like the roars of a dragon. And, if Erik wasn’t hallucinating out of shock, then the air around them was actually _trembling_.

The silence was deafening when Charles stopped calling. Time seemed to pass far too slowly as they waited for the dragon to appear, all eyes turned up towards the inky black sky.

Then, the dragon emerged from the darkness into the light. Erik’s knights shifted out of fear, and he couldn’t blame them, not when they’d been facing the beast night after night to no avail. However, he gestured for them to hold, waiting to see what Charles was about to do.

The dragon barely glanced at them, instead landing softly before Charles, who stood looking up at the beast with wide eyes that shone in the torchlight. The dragon lowered its head to the ground, becoming eye-level with Charles, and then tilted its head back and forth, the expression on its face -- if Erik really was seeing an expression and not a hallucination -- surprised and quizzical. Charles looked as equally fascinated as the dragon -- understandable, when this dragon was the first he’d ever seen and, if the stories were true, then it was Charles’ blood kin.

Erik, himself, found the sheer _size_ of the beast to be overwhelming. It was one thing to know the dragon would be large ; it was another to stand less than five hundred meters away from it, the dragon’s bulk casting them all into shadows.

Then the dragon opened its mouth, and instead of fire, sounds unlike a rolling thunder, though more distinct and roaring, came out. The words spilling from Charles’ lips in answer were almost lyrical, if not for the few harsh and hook-like syllables now and then.

Erik’s knights were exchanging wide-eyed looks and astounded whispers. Erik ignored them, eyes fastened to Charles and the hulking silhouette of the dragon.

The conversation between dragon and Dragonlord continued on, Charles gesturing with his hands as he spoke in that strange language and pointed to the northeast.

Eventually, some sort of agreement must have been reached, because the dragon bowed its great head to Charles, allowing him to actually _stroke its muzzle_ as if it was merely a horse, and then, with great gusts of wind from the flapping of its wings, the dragon took off into the air and flew away into the night -- hopefully to never return to Egis again.

 

The dragon had only just disappeared when a pair of guards rode out from the castle to meet them.

“The king demands the Dragonlord’s presence,” one of the guards stated.

Erik frowned, turning to Charles. Charles’ job was done, and Erik felt uneasy as to what the king would want with the Dragonlord now. Erik certainly didn’t think the king wanted to thank Charles for his help; Sebastian was not a man known for expressing his gratitude.

“Charles, I think we should leave,” Erik heard Armando advise, a suggestion he agreed with if Charles wished to remain safe.

Charles frowned. “Perhaps we should see what he wants,” he replied.

“You know what he wants. He _hates_ magic users. We’ll be executed,” Armando hissed.

“He probably will want to,” Erik remarked. “You should leave quickly.”

“And then what? Will he send you and your knights after me, Erik?” Charles demanded, looking at him with burning blue eyes. “Will he have you hunt me down, along with all the druids _'harboring'_ me?”

Erik blanched. He thought of the raids he’d led as barely an adult, flushing out druids and magic sympathisers to be tried and executed, and he thought of doing the same to Charles and wanted to heave his stomach.

Charles, seeing his inability to respond, nodded. “It’s best if I can find a way to head him off. So I will see what the king wants and go from there.”

Armando still looked skeptical and worried, but no more words of protest came. So Erik and his knights escorted Charles and Armando back into Egis.

 

They returned to the throne room, Erik dismissing his knights along the way. The king sat on his throne as if he hadn’t moved from it in the last hour, though he must have seen Charles and the dragon from a distance. The queen, however, was nowhere in sight.

“Erik,” Sebastian beckoned him, gesturing for him to stand to the right of his throne.

Erik looked briefly over at Charles, keeping himself from frowning, before doing as he was told. Charles and Armando stood alone in the center of the throne room; Erik didn’t like the way they looked small and surrounded from where he stood on the dais.

“Why did you not kill the dragon?” the king demanded, the look in his eyes harder than Erik had seen in years.

Charles, whom Erik was starting to see as a foolishly brave man, stood his ground and stared right back, head held high, brows furrowed, and eyes bright with defiance. Erik had a sinking feeling this wouldn’t end well, for anyone.

“ _Trahaearn_ is the last living dragon that we know of. It would be a crime against my ancestry, not to mention against magic and even nature herself, if I allow him to be killed,” Charles said evenly.

“That dragon is a danger to the people. Call it back so it can be put down!” Sebastian ordered.

“I’m sorry, but I will not.”

“Very well then, _Dragonlord_. You and your friend will be executed at dawn tomorrow for treason and violating Albya’s laws against magic,” Sebastian proclaimed. “Guards! Take them to the dungeons!”

The throne room erupted into motion. The guards on the periphery surged forward, surrounding Charles and Armando, and Armando drew his sword, expression grim. In the next few seconds, Armando was fighting off at least four guards as three more had slipped past him and grabbed hold of Charles.

Erik stood frozen; he had been almost certain this would happen, and yet it still came as a surprise, transfixing him in place with indecision. Was he to follow the king’s orders and assist the guards? Or was he to intervene, and keep them from imprisoning Charles? He didn’t know, because for the first time in his life, he protested the king’s decision, and he didn’t know what to do with that.

And so, he didn’t move, even as Armando shouted at the guards holding him and then cursed at Erik and the king, even as Charles called his name and looked at him with those impossible eyes of his The two of them disappeared out the door, swept out with the crowd of guards that had taken hold of them.

Beside him, Sebastian sighed once the throne room doors swung shut.

“Well then, that’s taken care of,” the king said, standing from his throne. “I best be retiring. Erik, I will see you tomorrow morning at dawn.”

Erik snapped out of his confoundment, hurriedly bowing to Sebastian. “Yes, sire.”

Sebastian nodded and headed for the hallway tucked away behind a tapestry--a more direct route to the royal quarters than from the throne room entrance. The king had reached the tapestry when he paused and turned back to look at Erik, his eyes boring into Erik’s as if he could clearly see Erik’s internal conflict.

“Oh, yes, I forgot, didn’t I? Welcome home, Erik, my boy.”

Sebastian left before Erik could reply, and Erik stood alone in an empty throne room with chills running up his arms and down his spine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I managed to post this in two weeks after all~ I hope you guys enjoyed it! Chapter 5 will likely be up in three weeks.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the long wait! This chapter got _really_ long on me. So here's a nearly 4000k update for you all. I hope you enjoy it!

After finally leaving the throne room, Erik had waved off all company and returned to his room. Since then he’d been seated in his chair, gazing into the fire burning in his fireplace. The look of disappointment and betrayal Charles had given him before being taken away had been like a knife twisting in his gut. Erik could still picture the look so vividly, and the guilt weighed like a stone in his stomach. The chills from Sebastian’s boring stare lingered as well.

He shouldn’t have been so caught off guard by the king’s actions: Sebastian had had all the Dragon Ladies killed through double-crossing much the same way. But the dragon still lived, and Erik would have thought Sebastian would at least know it would be best to keep alive the only person who could control such a beast, even if that person refused to kill it.

Ever since his mother and village had been taken from him, Erik had held one maxim above all other: magic users were evil and magic brought only misfortune, one way or the other. King Sebastian had shared his conviction, and Erik had accepted his guardianship and sovereignty as well as he could after losing his whole childhood. His and the king’s view on magic had always aligned.

But then came Charles, who _was_ a magic user and yet, Erik’s gut instincts told him that Charles would never be capable of evil.

As Erik had grown older, he had learned that the king had many flaws, but Sebastian’s decision today was the first Erik disagreed with involving magic; he didn’t know what it meant for his future, if he could continue to stand loyally as the king’s first knight.

One thing was clear to him though: he had sworn an oath to get Charles -- and by extension, Armando -- back to the druid encampment alive and well, and he would not break that oath, even if he would be assisting a magic user.

Planning for the worst, Erik pulled on his light traveling armour and buckled his sword to his belt. He

quickly packed the items he couldn’t part with along with some rations into a bag.

He was about ready to leave when Alex came barrelling into his room without so much as a knock, shoving the door closed immediately behind him.

“Alex!” Erik barked, scowling at the young knight. “What makes you think you can--”

“I knew it,” Alex interrupted him, and Erik followed his gaze to the pack he hadn’t slung onto his back yet. “You’re going to get them out, right?” Alex demanded before Erik could even open his mouth again to snap at him. Alex crossed the room to stand toe-to-toe with Erik, looking up at him brazenly. “Armando and Charles. You’re going to help them escape?”

“Keep your voice down,” Erik hissed. “What is it to you?”

“I want to help. I’m not going to let the two of them get killed. They don’t deserve it,” Alex answered, frowning at him as if daring Erik to contradict him.

“No, you can’t help,” Erik said immediately.

“Why not? I consider Armando a friend, and Charles is a good man. I want to help,” he said again.

“The more people involved, the easier it would be for us to be detected. I cannot risk that. Besides, do you know what this would mean for your family when Shaw finds out you helped magic users escape?”

Alex flinched as Erik predicted he would. Erik knew that while Alex’s relationship with his older brother, the Lord of Summerdale and a former knight of Egis, was strained at best, Alex still cared about his family and Summerdale’s standing in the kingdom.

Unfortunately, after a few seconds, Alex drew himself to his full height with a sharp inhale and glared at Erik.

“My family would want me to do what is right. And it’s not like you’ll be better off if you get caught. Let me help you, sir.”

Erik growled in frustration.

“Besides. Sean wants to help if you end up having to run, being your squire and all, and Azazel and Janos said they’d help us leave.”

“Are you daft? You told them?”

“They figured it out. I mean, Azazel and Janos are like your brothers, right? So look--” Alex ducked around Erik, snatching up Erik’s pack. “--I’ll take this down to your horse. Sean and I will have all the horses and packs ready in case we need to make a run for it. You just need to get Armando and Charles out of Egis.”

Before Erik could say another word of argument, Alex darted away, slipping out of the room, and Erik couldn’t go after him without causing a ruckus. He huffed, glaring at the door for a few moments. There was no time to waste though, so he took a turn around his room, looking for anything he might have forgotten, before heading for the dungeons.

 

Erik dismissed the two prison guards on shift that night, claiming the king wished for him to question the two prisoners. He waited for them to be out of sight and hearing range before walking further into the dungeons.

Charles and Armando sat in two separate cells, leaning against the wall directly across from their cell bars. They both looked up at Erik at the rattling of his keys. Charles looked worryingly winded and pale, and Erik approached Charles’ cell door, intent on unlocking his first.

"Erik?" Charles greeted him tentatively, slowly getting to his feet and approaching the door.

"Keep quiet. I swore you an oath, and I will keep that oath. I will see you and Armando out of this castle to safety," Erik murmured.

“Good to know that you have some sense of honour," Armando muttered.

"Armando!" Charles chided him, as Erik shot Armando a glare over his shoulder.

Then he got a good look at the lock and stared. Because the sharp metallic scent in the air shouldn’t be as strong as it was, and the lock itself was scorched black and smooth, the keyhole gone. If he didn’t know better, he would have thought the lock had partially melted.

“What in the--”

“Ah, terribly sorry, that was me,” Charles said, drawing Erik’s scrutiny from the lock to Charles’ sheepish expression.

“What did you _do_?” Erik hissed.

“Well, I _might_ have limited fire-conjuring abilities,” Charles admitted with a quirk of his lips. “I am Dragon kin, after all. It’s just--we heard your footsteps coming, so I stopped before I could finish.”

“...you can conjure fire,” Erik repeated slowly, still staring at Charles.

“ _Limited_ is the keyword. I did think it would make a good escape strategy if the king caught us. However, it takes a great deal of effort, especially to heat the fire enough to melt metal. ”

That probably explained how tired the man looked. Erik scowled at him, still fixated on how Charles could actually _conjure fire_. That fact would have been something good to know beforehand. He then looked down at the lock again.

“You will have to finish the job then. I can’t unlock this.”

“Ah, yes of course.” Charles raised his hands before pausing. “It’d be best if you took a few steps back. Perhaps you could unlock Armando’s cell while you’re at it?”

Erik did as he suggested, stepping back from Charles’ cell and turning slightly to unlock Armando’s door. Even as the door swung open and Armando slipped out, Erik kept his eyes on Charles, wanting to see what the Dragonlord would do.

Charles cupped his hands together and raised them in front of his mouth, as if to blow warmth into them -- instead, he blew _fire_. Erik tried not to gape as flames swirled into existence from Charles’ exhale. Then Charles was cradling a ball of fire in his hands, his skin completely unharmed and his brows furrowed in concentration. He opened his hands as he pressed the fire against the lock of the door, and the smell of burning metal sharpened in the air. Charles took a deep breath, and on his exhale, the fire burned larger, brighter.

Erik should have been looking at the fire -- the impossible fire melting through metal and yet not burning Charles’ skin -- but instead he stared at Charles, at how the light of the fire threw his features into sharp relief; how his lips were pressed tightly together, turned downward in the corners; how his eyes glowed a blue closer to white.

He should have been afraid of the sheer power Charles held within himself so unassumingly, but he couldn’t feel more secure in his safety, though he could hardly understand the feeling.

A soft pop and whoosh of an extinguished fire prevented him from pursuing the thought. With a snick, the door to Charles’ cell swung open, its lock no more than a lump of cooling metal on the ground.

Charles exhaled deeply, and Erik could just imagine power-- _magic_ \--sinking back into his skin. Then Charles staggered as he took a step, and Erik lunged forward on reflex, grasping Charles’ arm to keep him up.

“Oh, thank you. I didn’t realise how much that little trick took out of me,” Charles said, seeming to unconsciously lean against Erik.

 _That little trick._ Erik kept himself from snorting at the understatement, even as he tried not to think of the way Charles’ body felt against his. Erik cleared his throat, strangely dry all of the sudden.

“Do you need to rest, or can you walk?” he asked.

Charles shook his head. “I should be fine. Just give me a moment, if you please.”

And for a long, almost agonizing moment, Charles took several slow breaths, Erik left half-embracing him with one arm. Pressed against Erik’s side, Charles felt like a furnace, radiating heat that sunk enticingly into Erik’s body. Erik wondered if it was a side effect of Charles’ fire-wielding and pointedly did not look at Armando, not wanting to know what the knight thought of the situation.

Then Charles straightened, pulling away from Erik.

“All right, I’m fine. We should hurry, no?”

“Right, this way.” Erik jerked his head towards the other end of the hallway.

Charles followed him immediately, but Armando protested, “Isn’t that going _away_ from the entrance?”

"There’s a passage that leads out of the castle," Erik replied, continuing along without waiting for Armando to catch up. “I’ll take you through and then get your horses.

As a child, Erik had spent his time outside of studies and training exploring the ancient castle Sebastian had claimed as his citadel. As a result, he knew the castle like the back of his hand. He just hoped the passage from the dungeons hadn’t been blocked in the years since he’d seen it last, though only a handful of people knew it even existed.

They walked in silence through the dark for several minutes.

Suddenly, there was the snick and spark of a flint being hit, and light spilled out from two torches down the corridor. Erik shifted, pushing Charles behind him and resting his other hand on the hilt of his sword. Lit in the torchlight, Sebastian stood before them, flanked by at least six guards and blocking the passageway ahead.

“Ah. Erik, I can’t say I am surprised,” Sebastian remarked. “I am disappointed though.”

Erik cursed under his breath; things were not going to turn out even remotely well. He supposed his hesitations had been obvious to the king earlier. Regardless he replied:

“It would be dishonourable to kill the man who has helped us, and I swore an oath to protect these two from harm.”

“And you swore an oath to this kingdom,” Sebastian countered.

“I swore an oath to the people of Albya. And killing Charles will not serve the people or the kingdom any good.”

“He is a magic user! All magic users are a threat to the kingdom.”

Erik shook his head. “He saved us. I will not let you kill Charles.”

Sebastian nodded and sighed dramatically. “Then you’re more like the people in your blasted village than I had hoped. How unfortunate that they supported magic users. You will end up with the same fate. I had thought better of you, Erik.”

“ _What?_ ” Erik growled, just barely hearing the sharp intake of breath from behind him. Sebastian was implying something, something that Erik hoped against being true despite the painfully sharp rage beginning to build in his gut.

“It’s nothing to be concerned about,” Sebastian said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You would have made a wonderful heir; unfortunately, I now have to charge you with treason and conspiring with magic users.”

“Erik, we might want to run the other way soon,” Armando murmured, and Erik tilted his head in a short nod of agreement.

While Erik might be able to take on six guards, especially with Armando to assist him, the two of them had to protect Charles, who wasn’t in top condition after his fire-wielding. Their best option was to head back the way they had came, since it seemed Sebastian hadn’t thought to box them in.

“I know you well enough to know you won’t simply surrender,” the king said to Erik. Sebastian sighed when Erik jerked his head in refusal. “Very well then, guards, capture them. I want them executed at dawn.”

The guards rushed forward, and Erik drew his sword even as he urged Armando and Charles to run back the way they’d came.

“Keep going, Charles,” he ordered and then turned around.

Within seconds, he locked swords with two guards.

Erik hadn’t been responsible for the training of the castle guards though, and while he was unfamiliar with the ones Sebastian commanded, they were less skilled than most of his knights.

He knocked them away, fighting off two more immediately afterwards, and Armando took care of the remaining two.

They were soon free to catch up with Charles and run up the stairs out of the dungeons, unpursued for  at least a few minutes.

The moment they reached ground level though, a rush of castle guards were after them. Fortunately, Erik couldn’t discern any of his knights among them. He wasn’t sure what it meant, if Sebastian had told them to not bother or if the knights had actively refused to capture Erik. He knew Azazel and Janos, at the very least, would have done the later. And just what did that say about their king, he suddenly realised, before pushing the thought away for later.

 

They spent nearly an hour evading the guards, running around sharp corners and ducking into all the hidden passages Erik could think of. The closer they got to the stables though, the more guards there were around--logical, but frustrating for him, Charles, and Armando.

“So what’s the likeliness of us making it out of here?” Armando asked drily some time later.

“We’ll make it,” Erik growled.

They’d had several close calls with the guards already, but while Erik didn’t wish to actually draw blood, the guards were easily dispatched with a quick disarming and bash on the head with his sword hilt or fist.

They finally lost enough of their pursuers to catch their breath in the hallway leading to the castle library.

Moments later, the library door swung open, the squeaking of its hinges causing the three of them to give a start. There wasn’t the clanging of armour that accompanies a running guard, however, and Erik and Armando stood shoulder to shoulder, blocking the way to Charles with their swords.

Then the queen stepped into sight, a couple of scrolls tucked under her arm. She raised an eyebrow at them, and Erik stiffened, uncertain how she would act from there on.

“I see you’re still here,” she said, sounding utterly unalarmed and unsurprised. “I suggest you run along down to Henry. Sebastian will be distracted come midnight. Leave around then; your men have been informed.”

Erik stared, not quite believing what he was hearing. Unless the queen was fooling them now, she was a magic sympathiser -- and it seemed, Henry was one as well.

“Well? What are you waiting for? Get going. Henry should be expecting you.”

Emma waved a hand at the open library door, which was yet another thing to surprise him. Erik wasn’t aware anyone else had known about the passage hidden in the library. The passage would take them directly to the southeast corner of the castle, precisely where the court physician’s quarters were located.

“Erik?” Charles’ voice called him out of his shock.

Beside him, Armando stood looking at the queen in disbelief. Charles, though, was staring at her the way he had in the throne room.

Erik huffed, suddenly irritated.

“We’ll do as she says. Come on,” he said, approaching the library door.

He checked to make sure there was no one in the library, before leading them inside. Emma pushed the door closed behind them, the resulting thump resounding through the library.

 

It didn’t take long to find the passage, and they reached the corridor leading to Henry’s quarters without any difficulty. The hallways was conspicuously empty, not a single patrolling guard in sight.

Erik kept his sword drawn as he entered the court physician’s quarters, Charles and Armando following him closely. Henry sat hunched over a book at his desk, his back to the door, but the shutting of the door made him jump to his feet and turn to face them.

“Sir,” Henry greeted Erik first, eyes trained on Erik’s sword.

“You’ve been consorting with the queen?” Erik demanded.

Henry straightened, standing tall and defiant with no trace of the meek young man Erik was accustomed to seeing.

“She sent you here, didn’t she? With the Dragonlord and his knight.” Henry nodded his head to Charles and Armando.

Erik sighed and, with a quick glance at the surroundings, sheathed his sword, Armando following suit. Henry visibly relaxed before turning to Charles and Armando.

“I know it’s not the best time, but it’s good to finally meet you, Dragonlord, sir. ”

“Call me Charles, please,” Charles replied. “This is my friend Armando.”

Armando gave Henry a casual salute, and an awkward silence stretched for a few moments.

“Why don’t we take a seat?” Henry then suggested. “You won’t be able to leave for a while, and I’m sure you have questions.”

He gestured to the table and benches across the room, and the four of them went to settle around table.

“How long have you been a sympathiser? And speaking with the queen on things other than your medical expertise?” Erik asked once they were seated.

“Ever since I began my apprenticeship. Master John spoke with the queen often, and he taught me everything he knew.” Henry hesitated before adding, “You should probably know, that means magical herblore and healing magic as well.”

Erik frowned. “But all the people severely ill and injured--the burns and the deaths and--”

A hand briefly brushed his forearm, startling him to silence. Erik looked over at Charles, who smiled at him with sadness in his eyes.

“Do you remember what I said? Magic isn’t a cure-all. It can only do some much,” Charles said. “Besides, I’m sure Henry tries to do the most he can.”

He nodded in Henry’s direction, and Erik found Henry gripping his hands together on the table, his knuckles white and a deep frown on his face.

“There’s a delicate balance involved when I’m doing magic right under the noses of the king and the Knights of Albya. I can’t stand by and let people suffer when I could treat and heal them, but I have to make their healing appear _natural_ , or else I can’t help people because I’d be _dead_ ,” Henry mumbled. “Besides, I’m not a natural-born sorcerer. Healing magic takes my own energy reserves to make people better.”

“I understand,” Erik said, which would the closest he’d ever get to an apology.

Henry nodded in acceptance. Then Erik hesitated for a moment, not sure if he was ready to think about the topic he was about to bring up.

“Henry, did your master ever say anything about a village called Eularnor?”

Beside Erik, Charles stiffened, clearly remembering the incident on their journey to Egis.

“It sounds familiar,” Henry replied, “but I can’t be sure. The village...doesn’t exist anymore, I’m assuming?”

Erik nodded, jaw clenching almost painfully.

“Could you tell me what happened to it?” asked Henry, sounding as timid as Erik had ever heard him. Henry, Erik was sure, was well aware of how closely Erik guarded his past, considering the number of knights he’d had to treat after training on those rougher days.

Erik exhaled sharply before saying, “It was burned to the ground by magic users--at least, that’s what I’ve always thought and been told, but just earlier, what Sebastian said--” He cut himself off, watching the way Henry paled. “What do you know?”

“My master once told me that during the first year of the Purge, there were villages in Albya that didn’t want to renounce magic and refused to turn in any magic users. The king went around the kingdom, ostensibly to hunt down magic users, but he also burned some of those villages to the ground--to serve as an example to the rest--and blamed the burnings on sorcerers,” said Henry, his voice heavy and barely loud enough to be heard. “That’s when Albya started burning magic users or their bodies, actually, as a kind of retaliation. But your village, I can’t say for certain if it was one of the villages burned by Shaw, or one of the villages attacked by rogues in retaliation.”

“The king certainly _implied_ which one it was,” Armando remarked darkly.

“I need to know for certain though. I _need_ to,” Erik nearly growled.

He didn’t realise his hands were trembling until Charles put his hands over his; Erik almost flinched at the gentle warmth of Charles’ hands. Looking into Charles’ eyes were like falling into the sky.

“We can ask Irene. She has the power to find out, or she will know someone in Sanctaidd who will know what really happened. I promise, Erik, we’ll find out the truth.”

Erik nodded, his throat feeling to tight to speak.

“Good. Now, why don’t we discuss some lighter topics while we wait for midnight to come?” Charles suggested, and he fell into conversation with Henry and Armando over some healing technique or another.

It took a while for Erik to notice the way Charles’ thumb had stroked the back of Erik’s hand before letting his hands go. Erik barely kept himself from running a finger along the path of his touch, the skin there feeling hot like a brand.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know, I'm as equally surprised that a new chapter for this is being posted. I apologize for the wait. I had a huge struggle with this chapter, and then real life got in the way. This fic has not been abandoned, just as my other fics haven't. It's just been a struggle to make time to write with everything I have to deal with nowadays, but I really wanted to get new chapters out for my WIPs before the end of the year. Anyways, sorry again for the wait. Please enjoy! 
> 
> (still un-beta'd)

At midnight, a single clang of the castle bells echoed through the halls before silence fell once again. The furor of the search for Erik and the magic users he was helping had died down over the past few hours. Henry had slipped out ten minutes earlier to see if the queen had been true to her words about Sebastian, locking the door to his quarters to keep them safe within.

Erik stood with Charles and Armando around one of Henry’s tables, where the same map of the lands Henry had shown Erik at the beginning of this mess was spread open on the surface. They needed to plan a new route to Sanctaidd, since they couldn't follow the quicker main roads they had used before or else risk discovery and capture.

“Our best bet would be to travel north into the forestlands bordering the Eira mountains and then work our way east,” Erik said, tracing the proposed route with a finger. “We’ll have to pick our way through the trees, which will take us longer, but if we’re lucky, the knights Shaw will send after us won’t realize we’ve taken this route until it’s too late to figure out which direction we went in the forests.”

“And if we _aren’t_ lucky?” Armando asked dryly.

“I can cover our tracks and leave false ones if we need to. Besides, Egis’ best trackers are Azazel and Janos; they won’t be the ones looking for us.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Armando demanded.

Erik looked him steadily in the eye and said, “Because they’re brothers to me in all but blood, and I would trust them with my life and the lives I choose to protect -- even in this situation we find ourselves in.”

Armando frowned but didn’t argue with that statement, instead looking to Charles. Erik followed his glance, wanting to know Charles’ thoughts on the matter.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” Charles assured them. “I can be of help covering our tracks and moving through the trees. I wasn’t raised among druids for nothing, after all.”

A smile lifted the corner of Charles’ lips briefly, and Erik tried to ignore how much he liked seeing the light of confidence in Charles’ eyes. He’d always appreciated competence.

Before anything else could be said, the clicking of a lock heralded Henry’s return. The physician slipped into the room, closing the door quickly behind him as he adjusted his spectacles.

“The king and queen have retired to their bedchamber,” Henry announced without preamble. “I’ve also gathered that a small party of knights have been sent out of Egis to search for you. While the guards here are still on alert, they don’t believe you’re still in the castle. You shouldn’t have any trouble leaving now.”

“Excellent, thank you very much for your help, Henry,” Charles said.

“It’s the least I could do for your help saving Egis,” Hank replied before looking over at Erik. “Sir, Squire Sean and Sir Alex are waiting outside the hidden south gate with horses. Sir Azazel is acting as lookout for them, and Sir Janos and men he’s handpicked are patrolling the battlements right now.”

Some of the tension that had gathered in Erik’s neck and shoulders over the last several hours eased away at the news. He had meant what he had said to Armando, but even with what Alex had told him earlier, he hadn’t been sure Azazel and Janos would help him free Charles. Azazel and Janos had never been as vocally and demonstratively set against magic as Erik had been, but they hadn’t given any indications otherwise. Now, with his own views on magic off-kilter, he wondered exactly what their stance was -- but that matter would have to wait.

“Good,” Erik said instead, shooting a look at Armando for having been proven correct. “We better leave then.”

 

They encountered no troubles leaving the castle. Henry sent them through his inner chambers to a door Erik had never known existed, leading to a short passage that eventually lead directly out of the castle. The passage, Henry disclosed, was meant to give the physician a quick route out and down to the town in the case of a medical emergency, but he had personally never used it until the night the dragon had first attacked.

Henry wished them good luck and a farewell, before Erik led Charles and Armando along the north side of the castle, moving swiftly through the castle’s shadows. Looking up at the castle’s main walls and the battlements of the outer walls, Erik couldn’t see a single sentry on patrol, just like Henry had hinted at.

Not needing to move with as much caution, they quickly reached the grove that hid the south gate. With the southern end of the castle grounds being far from the main gates and less travelled, the trees and shrubs in the grove had been allowed to grow freely, overrunning the old path that had led up to the gates. He led the way along the old path, glad that they were no longer out in the open even with no guards around to spot them.

Erik had found the gate -- in truth an old wooden door with wrought iron inlay half-covered in vines and moss -- while exploring the grounds as a child. He suspected that at one time, long before Sebastian had chosen the castle as his ruling seat in Albya, the gate had been part of an escape route for the castle’s previous occupants. Now, Sebastian had no need for such a gate and along with all but a select few didn’t even know of its existence.

No one had used the gate in ages, so Erik had to ignore the bemused looks on Charles’ and Armando’s faces as he kicked at the hinges a couple times and tugged on the handle until the gate creaked open. The two schooled their expressions back into seriousness as he gestured for them to hurry through the door.

As he slipped through the door after them, movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned, a hand on the hilt of his sword, only to see Azazel step out from the shadows into moonlight. Azazel pointed upwards, and Erik spotted Janos on the castle parapet directly above.

As one, Azazel and Janos each touched his fingertips to his forehead before closing his hand into a fist against his heart -- the salute they had come up with as young squires, for when they left on dangerous campaigns or quests and might not ever see each other again. Even as his heart clenched at the sight, Erik straightened and returned the salute.

With a final nod, they parted ways, Erik slipping out the door as Azazel and Janos disappeared back into the shadows. Erik swore to himself that one way or another, he would reunite with them; he refused to be forever separated from the only family he had left.

 

As promised, Alex and Sean were waiting for them with their horses and packed bags within the copse by the gate. Sean looked grimmer than Erik had ever seen him, even in the wake of the dragon’s first attack, and he wondered briefly if it was really a good idea to have him come along with them. He pushed the thought aside, since nothing could be done now. Erik nodded his thanks to the boy when he handed Erik the reins to his horse.

“Introductions can happen later, let’s get moving. We’re heading around and up north,” Erik said, his voice barely a whisper. They mounted their horses and were immediately on their way, skirting the castle walls to the north and rushing across the surrounding plains for the mountains in the distance.

 

They rode hard through the night, not stopping until just before sunrise, when the plains of central Albya changed into sparsely vegetated rocky terrain. They would reach the Eira forestlands once they passed through, but the rocks offered shelter for them to rest through naturally-formed caves.

They hadn’t dared to stop at any villages or towns. Since Erik’s knighthood, he’d made an effort to patrol the entirety of the kingdom at least once, even twice, a year; someone was bound to recognize him if they passed through.

Erik claimed first watch, and Alex, Sean, and Armando were asleep the moment they dropped onto their bedrolls. Charles moved slower than the boys, seeming to not be in as much a rush to sleep, and settled his things more carefully. Erik simply dropped his bags down at an open space against the cave wall, before sitting down with his sword at the mouth of the cave, a convenient rock propping up his back.

He didn’t expect any trouble. Besides their head start, with the rocky terrain, he would be able to hear anyone tracking them, while the cave’s positioning made it easy for them to see but not be seen by any approachers.

After a few minutes of silence, movement to his right announced Charles’ approach, diverting him from the roiling in his stomach beginning to rise from the re-emerging thoughts about his past. Erik watched silently as Charles sat down next to him. Charles didn’t speak at first, looking out at the moonlit rock formations surrounding their cave, but Erik knew he had something to say, so he waited, studying Charles’ shadowed profile against moonlight.

He was still slightly startled when Charles turned the full weight of his blue eyes onto him.

“With everything that happened, I don’t believe I ever got to say this, but thank you so much for your help,” Charles said, voice soft in deference to the night and their sleeping companions.

“I was doing what was right,” Erik replied, unintentionally gruff from embarrassment.

“Not everyone would have done what was right, Erik, not in the circumstances we were facing. And--” Erik went completely still when Charles reached out and placed his hand on Erik’s. “I’m sorry for the way you had to leave with us.”

Sudden anger welled up inside him--not at Charles, but at the world at large, at what had happened.

“I _hate_ this,” Erik snarled. A distant part of him felt regret as Charles flinched away at his tone, but he continued on: “I hate this--this _uncertainty_. Have I been living a lie all these years?”

“Shh. _Ymdawelu_ , Erik,” Charles murmured, touching his hand again. “Once we get to Sanctaidd, we’ll speak with Irene, but I don’t know if distressing yourself right now will do any good. _Ymdawelu. Calm_.”

Erik took a deep breath, grounding himself to the warmth of Charles’ hand and the sound of his voice. and shoving all unnecessary thoughts away.

“I’m sorry,” Erik said. “You’re correct. We need to get you to safety first.”

“That was not really my concern. I am sure we’ll get there just fine. But thank you.” Charles squeezed Erik’s hand before letting go. “I’m going to get some sleep. Night’s blessings, Erik.”

Charles left, returning to wherever he’d set up his bedroll, and Erik listened until the rustling behind him settled before returning his full attention to the night stretched out before him.

 

They set out on the road again late the next day, with Erik and Charles riding side by side, Erik keeping an eye out for any indications of pursuers. Alex, Sean, and Armando rode a bit clumped together in the rear, becoming fast friends as Alex and Sean peppered Armando with questions about druid life and magic.

Eventually, they reached the edges of the Eira forestlands, the rough road narrowing until they could barely manage to travel two horses abreast. Erik noted they would have to leave the road soon and navigate through the trees to head east towards Sanctaidd, but for now the road would do. Discussion continued, and as Armando spoke of living hidden in Sanctaidd, a thought occurred to Erik, causing him to turn his attention to Charles instead of the path ahead of them.

“Charles, if you hadn’t encountered a dragon before, how did you know how to speak with one?” he asked.

“I never exactly... _learned_ how to speak with dragons. I just knew the moment I became a dragonlord that there was a language I could understand and speak,” Charles said with a shrug. “It’s rather fascinating, if you think about it, how this transfer of power occurs, but...it’s not something I can truly learn more about. I am the only one left after all.”

Charles smiled at him without a drop of cheer, and Erik couldn’t help but frown at the sight before Charles looked away. A moment later, the melancholy was gone, and Charles continued speaking:

“There is a nest of wyverns living in the Sarff mountains. Shortly after my mother died, I discovered that I could speak to them -- they sound strange and I sound strange to them, as if we speak two different dialects, but since they are the cousins of dragons, the language isn’t much different.”

Their earlier departure from Sanctaidd suddenly made sense to Erik.

“Was that where you were?” he asked. Charles blinked at him in confusion. “In the mountains with the wyverns. When we left for Egis, you hadn’t come from your tent.”

“Oh yes, I was,” Charles replied, a genuine smile now on his lips. Erik ignored how his heart lifted at the sight. “I couldn’t leave without letting them know first. They would have gotten worried.”

Strange as it was to hear Charles refer to the wyverns as if they were people, Erik didn’t have too much difficulty accepting Charles’ statement as fact and not something to snap about, a testament to how Erik’s view on magic had changed without him noticing until denial was impossible.

Charles was living proof that not all magic was evil, and if that were so, Erik feared what that meant about his past. That familiar sickness began creeping into his gut, rolling his stomach and trapping his thoughts in a cycle of what-ifs.

Charles must have read something in his expression, understood somehow the direction of his thoughts, because a warm touch to his arm drew his attention back to his surroundings.  

“ _Ymdawelu_ , Erik,” Charles said that same calming word from the night before. The soft look in his eyes as he caught Erik’s gaze was almost unbearable, being far too close to pity.

“I _know_ ,” Erik barely avoided snapping, caught in discomfort. Even so, he couldn’t resisting touching a hand to Charles’, keeping him from flinching away at his tone. “Questioning won’t serve me now, but it’s not something I can push so easily out of my mind,” he forced himself to speak levelly. “Thank you though, for preventing me from losing myself in those thoughts.”

Charles looked at him with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, clearly not expecting his words. His expression inexorably drew Erik to the depths of Charles’ bright eyes and the redness of his lips. Then Charles’ gaze drifted from Erik’s face to their hands, still touching on Erik’s arm, and he was faintly charmed by the hint of a flush in Charles’ cheeks. The flush is gone a moment later though, Charles looking collected once again.

“There’s nothing to thank me for,” he said with a smile, his hand lingering on Erik’s arm for a breath more before they both draw apart.

Quiet settled between them without any tension at all, and they rode on, listening to the meandering conversations shared between Armando, Alex, and Sean. Erik felt lighter than he had since leaving Egis.

 


End file.
